I shouldn’t be wasting time with an “About the Author” section. Instead I should title this section that dareds you to stop reading but make damn sure you didn’t. Because this isn’t about resumes or achievements—it’s about the scars, the fuck-ups, and the road that led here.

So, what do you want? A polished backstory? A list of credentials? Something to make this all sound noble? Not happening. You’re here, reading this, because somewhere in your own miserable little existence, something feels familiar. Maybe you’ve built something and watched it fall. Maybe you’ve chased the wrong things, burned bridges, or woken up next to the wrong person for far too many mornings in a row. Maybe you’ve seen the world for what it really is—a rigged game where the only way to win is to stop playing by their rules.

So here’s the deal. I write about the ride. The crashes, the mistakes, the absurdity of thinking any of it ever mattered in the first place. If you’re looking for inspiration, go find some guru peddling fairy tales. If you want the truth—the ugly, unvarnished, whiskey-stained truth—keep reading. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.